Wings of an Angel
by hakugetsu
Summary: After five painful years, Fuji and Tezuka meet unintentionally. In the midst of lights and people, anything can happen.
1. Prologue

**Prologue**

_The vast, endless sea_

_I dwell in the unknown _

_The wind gently ruffles my hair._

_The more I walk, the lonelier I get_

_The more I love, the more heartbroken I become_

_Blame Fate, because she let me meet you in my life_

_But she forbade us to see each other every day_

_I asked the world, What is love?_

_Why can't we stay together when we were meant to?_

_The flying sand blows into my eyes_

_I didn't cry because of you – I didn't want you to get worried_

_You can walk your path, I'll endure my pain_

_I wipe my tears away and bravely stand up_

_I wonder why the world is so cruel_

_I didn't want to get drunk – I'm just full of regret_

_Once I go, I won't be coming back; I don't even want to turn my head around._

_I don't know when in my life we'd meet again._

* * *

Silence lingered between two figures on the rooftop. 

"Tezuka…you're really going to Germany, aren't you?"

Fuji himself knew that he had been asking this the millionth time. He knew it was the truth – but he wasn't ready to accept it yet. He didn't know if he'd ever be ready to accept this formidable truth.

"I am."

"…"

Fuji didn't know what to say. All he did was lean on the walls that prevented him from jumping down the building.

"I guess love won't work between us, will it?"

"What do you mean, Fuji?"

"Iie, it's nothing…"

Yes, Fuji did love Tezuka. Love conquers all - what a meaningless phrase. And he wondered if this was how it felt to lose someone dear to you. He laughed at his own naïveté, though he hardly found anything amusing. He closed his eyes and smiled. Tezuka didn't notice that his lips were quivering a little.

"Can I accompany you to the airport?" he asked.

"Sure. But if you don't want to, don't force yourself."

"Well, if I didn't want to, I wouldn't ask you."

"I'd be departing next Thursday, at around nine at night…"

"I'll meet you at your place at around six then."

"Ahh."

* * *

Fuji stuck his hands deep in his pockets, trying to put his footsteps in sync with Tezuka's. 

_What a stupid act,_ he thought. _It isn't as if you're connected with him in any way except being friends…_

They were walking towards the boarding gate in Tokyo airport. Outside of the windows, the sky was black and the fewest of stars shone in faltering light, which looked like blinking. Parts of the sky was pink from all the rain-drenched clouds, and the other parts were a deep, velvety blue that seemed to stretch into eternity. Crowds of tourists were around them, waiting to board the planes, with occasional sounds of jets taking flight.

_Just like you, Tezuka. You're taking flight._

Noises were all around them and yet the only sounds they heard were their footsteps and the wheels of Tezuka's suitcases. These sounds stopped as soon as they reached the gate of his departure.

Fuji closed his eyes and pulled a smile across his lips.

"When you come back, you'll be the perfect Tezuka Kunimitsu, even more perfect than before – you'll be bathed in the glory of professional tennis," he said in his soft voice. "I'm happy for you."

"Thank you, Fuji," Tezuka replied humbly. Even if it was his departure, his features were still pulled into a stern expression. His eyes, however – were softened, a mixture of longing and sadness, Fuji noticed.

"Can I hug you?" he asked. Tezuka merely nodded, but taking it nothing more as an indication of friendship.

Fuji pulled him into a hug, but let go immediately, as if he were afraid of something.

"Good bye, Tezuka," he said. "Hopefully, I'll see you soon."

"Ahh."

With that Tezuka turned around and disappeared into the crowd. Fuji watched his footsteps, those confident strides that echoed in his mind a million times, that he could never forget.

_You'll pursue your path; I'll endure the pain._

* * *

_To be continued _


	2. Chapter 1

**Chapter One**

_In a moment, everything can change – feel the wind on your shoulders_

_For a minute, all the world can wait – let go of your yesterday_

_Can you hear calling? Can you feel it in your soul? Can you trust its longing, and take control?_

_Fly- open up a part of you that wants to hide away_

_You can shine, forget about the reasons why you can't in life._

_All your worries, leave them somewhere else_

_Find a dream that you can follow_

_Reach for something when there's nothing left_

_And the world's feeling hollow._

_-extract from Fly_

* * *

Fuji stared at the stunning view of the Hong Kong coastline from his hotel window.

"Syuusuke, I haven't seen you that captivated in anything except natural scenes," said a long-haired girl sitting on a sofa, in the living room of the deluxe hotel suite.

"Well, Sarah, it _is_ beautiful."  
"I know that, after all I was the one who told you there was a beautiful view here. The problem is, you've been staring at it for ten minutes nonstop."

"Have I now?" Fuji asked. "Well blame the boss for making our next photography project in Hong Kong."

"Then can you at least sit and drink the coffee before it gets cold? Starbucks isn't awfully expensive but it isn't cheap either."

"Okay, okay."

After Tezuka left, Fuji was accepted into Cambridge University. When he graduated with a few degrees he became a professional photographer. Before long, his photos were widely spread across countries.

"It's too bad, Syuusuke, that you had to give yourself a penname," said Sarah, sipping her coffee.

"I just felt like it," replied Fuji.

"Syuusuke, what's wrong? You've been thinking of someone just now," she stated.

For a fraction of a second, Fuji stiffened a little.

"What? I was just admiring the beauty of the coastline," he replied, hoping not to sound too defensive.

"Syuusuke," sighed Sarah. "You know fairly well that I've known you since Cambridge and I know what you're thinking and feeling."

"No, seriously, Sarah, I'm alright. Stop being a worrywart."

"Yeah, Syuusuke, _all right_ you've been thinking about Tezuka Kunimitsu."

It was Fuji's turn to sigh. There was no helping it – Sarah could read him like a book.

"Sarah, please…"

"It's been five years now. Either seek for him, contact him, or complete forget about him and wipe him out of your life. Trapping yourself into a world of anything but reality is just torture because you know that what you're thinking is never going to happen unless you do something."

"I _know_ that."

"But you're not doing anything – "

"I'm feeling a bit tired now, Sarah. So good night."

With that he went into his own room, and buried himself under the covers without even bothering to change.

_Do I love Tezuka that much? So much that after five years, it doesn't fade? Everywhere I go I hope that I'd see him, just like a child hoping to see Santa Claus on Christmas. Am I _that_ naive? _

Fuji himself knew that he wouldn't be able to sleep a wink that night.

* * *

The next morning, Fuji woke up to find a magazine lain on top of his head. He reached up, grabbed it and nearly threw it on the floor, but something on the cover caught his eye.

The headlines flashed: _Youngest person __**ever**__ to be ranked world's top number two male player – Tezuka Kunimitsu._

There was a huge photograph of Tezuka on the Wimbledon tennis court. Fuji almost felt a pant of guilt because he hadn't made an effort of contacting him throughout the five years. He was afraid that his childish heart would yearn more and more for Tezuka's love. How could he even be called his best friend, when he wasn't there to see Tezuka's most glorious moments?

Fuji stared at it, feeling remorse and guilt wash over him. He sat up and slowly opened the magazine and slowly read the article, careful not to miss any little piece of information about Tezuka.

"Anyone with half a brain would know that you'd be interested," said Sarah, who was suddenly standing in the doorway.

Finishing the article, Fuji dumped it on the bedside table before sliding back into a sleeping position. Every time he heard about anything that involved Tezuka, his heart cracked a little.

Sarah, being wise, left him alone after putting another cup of Starbucks coffee beside the magazine.

* * *

Tezuka looked at a photo album by the famous photographer, LaNoche. He wondered if he was looking at the photos because he missed Fuji.

He'd always been a big fan of LaNoche, because that person's photos were simply amazing. They told things that words couldn't express. And most of all, they were pictures that Fuji would take; they reminded him vividly of Fuji.

He sighed and closed his eyes, wondering if the jet lag had gotten into him. He had made an agreement to coach an extremely talented teenager in Hong Kong, and here he was, in some kind of hotel suite that was far too grand for his taste.

He stood up from the bed, changed into his tennis clothes and picked up his tennis bag. He was going to meet that supposedly talented kid today.

* * *

"Syuusuke, do you want to play a bit of tennis today? We've got five more days to settle down before we actually have to get to work."

"Sure. I needed some exercise, anyway. "

Fuji picked up his tennis stuff. Aside from photography, tennis was his favourite activity, and he couldn't sleep without playing everyday for at least two hours.

He walked into a court that he booked a few minutes ago. It was in the middle of a park, and they were the only ones playing tennis. The sun wasn't too bright, which was good. There was even a little breeze.

"It's rare for polluted places like Hong Kong to have such beautiful weather in spring," said Fuji.

"Ne, Syuusuke, look at that." Sarah pointed to a boy, around sixteen of age. He was rallying against the wall. There was nothing special about that.

But when Fuji looked closer he noticed that he was hitting the same spot every time, and it made a mark on the wall. And the ball was considerably speeding up.

"Wow. I haven't seen any teenager that talented since Seigaku," he said.

"Well, I've _never_ seen anyone like that except you."

Fuji had an amused look on his face. He slowly strode up to the boy.

"What's your name?" he asked.

The boy deftly caught the ball in his hand before he looked up.

"Nicholas," he replied shortly. His voice wasn't high, nor was it deep. He had short, black hair that somewhat flew in all directions.

"Saa, can I play against you for a little while?"

The boy nodded, in a courteous kind of way.

"Nicholas, you really remind me of my old tennis team captain."

Nicholas probably didn't know what to say at the sudden random comment.

"His name is Tezuka Kunimitsu, you know?" he said, smiling broadly.

Surprisingly, he was still sedate about the fact that Fuji knew the famous tennis player. Sarah followed them into the court, as they got ready for the game. The boy served.

Sure the boy was talented, extremely talented, in fact, for his age. He was probably at Fuji's own level when he was still in Seigaku Junior High. Even so, Fuji beat him easily, 6 – 4.

"Saa, Nicholas – you're a really good player. If you keep practicing you could become a pro," he said. "Well, we won't disturb your practicing now."

"Thank you for the match, mister."

Fuji smiled before walking out of the court with Sarah.

* * *

Tezuka was coaching the boy that he was supposed to. He couldn't deny the fact that he _was_ talented.

"Nicholas," he said, his deep and stern voice calling to the boy. "Water break."

The boy nodded and headed towards his bag.

After draining his water bottle, he said, "Sir…there's something I want to tell you."

Tezuka looked at him inquiringly.

"Just now, before you came – a man walking with a woman asked to play me. I did, but he beat me six games to four."

Tezuka was surprised that people who played tennis for leisure could beat his student that easily. But it wasn't impossible.

"So?" he asked nonchalantly.

"He said you were his captain."

Tezuka choked on the water he was drinking.

"_What?" _ he sounded a little incredulous, but he didn't look like it. "Did he have purple eyes and black hair and a loud, obnoxious voice?" he asked, obviously referring to Momoshiro. It couldn't have been Oishi and Eiji, because they always played as a pair; it couldn't be Echizen, he was also a famous professional player. It couldn't be Inui, because he was working in America, nor could it be Kaidoh, because it just wasn't his nature to challenge people out of the blue.

"No, sir," the boy answered politely.

Tezuka felt his heart clench. He already knew who the person was.

"He looked feminine. He was brunette and had his eyes closed."

"I see. Let's resume practice, then."

Nicholas wondered why his coach disliked the subject that badly.


	3. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

Tell me what you'd do when it all falls apart.

* * *

"_Ne, Tezuka…when we become an angel, where do you think our wings would grow?"_

"…"

"_They say that your wings will grow from your shoulder blades."_

"_Ahh."_

"_Do you believe that we were once angels?"_

"_I wouldn't know."_

"_Well, what do you think then?"_

"_Fuji, stop with the trivial questions please. You'd rather study for the upcoming exams."_

"_Okay then."_

* * *

"Syuusuke, _do something._" 

"How many million times did I tell you? I don't freaking love him! Please, can we stop talking about this?"

"You can't escape from the truth forever!"

"It's not even the truth!"

"Yes, it freaking is! You can lie to the whole world, you can tell the snake that it's living on mars; you can tell the tree that you're a bloody cat. But whoever or whatever you lie to, you can't lie to yourself! You _know_ it's the bloody truth!"

"Okay, okay, Sarah, I get it. I love him. Satisfied?"

"Syuusuke, I don't like arguing with you. That's because we're both stubborn idiots and nothing's gonna turn out right between two blooming stubborn idiots."

"Neither do I."

"Right then. Think about it tonight, and let us get some bloody sleep instead of just standing in the suite in the middle of the night squabbling in a lunatic's language."

* * *

It was nearly one in the morning, and Tezuka was still standing in the big gallery filled with photos, under a huge banner that said LaNoche – The Grand Exhibition of Great Masterpieces. 

You could say that Tezuka came this late at night because he wanted to avoid crowds that would certainly flock at him if he were to come at some other time. He was alone in the gallery, which was completely dark except by the small light of the little lamp that dangled above each photo. He couldn't help but marvel the truly beautiful scenes portrayed in a rectangular piece of glossy fabric, showing various places and views. Each photo was immaculate, flawless and perfect beyond measure, and they told what words couldn't express.

From behind Tezuka's back, a soft voice spoke.

"Saa, I didn't know you liked my photos that much."

Tezuka spun around at the voice that echoed through the hall in a most elegant way.

Wildly he looked around, trying to find out the origin of the voice that was nowhere to be seen. Just as he thought there was something wrong with his ears, a figure dressed in black emerged from the shadows of the grand hall.

The figure gave a deep bow.

"It's an honour that you like my works that much, Tezuka Kunimitsu. I am LaNoche."

"Iie, it's nothing…but who are you? It's just that…I think your works are absolutely amazing."

The figure recovered from his bow, then suddenly walked forward, pushing his hands into his pocket.

"Maa, Tezuka, it isn't like you at all to be praising someone so much."

It took a while before the image of a slim brunette with a soft smile registered in his brain, and at that time, his heart felt like it couldn't generate any more blood.

"Fuji."

"It's been a long time, Tezuka."

Yes, it was a long time, so long that he'd forgotten how he should react around the tensai. Memories fade, but he was never able to forget Fuji's soft voice, his delicate skin, his beautiful smile, his intoxicating smell. It had been so long, so long that his heart had forgotten to yearn for the latter's presence.

As Tezuka stood frozen there, Fuji's eyes softened as he felt a wave of memories rush over him, the familiar feeling of how his heart skipped a beat whenever he was around Tezuka. And even now, he wondered if he had ever stopped loving him and how he acted. He wondered if he had ever stopped loving Tezuka for who he was.

"Saa, Tezuka. It's kind of late now, so do you want to meet me tomorrow for dinner?"

"O-Okay." Tezuka himself knew it was very uncharacteristic for him to stutter, but he reassured that this didn't matter because it was Fuji he was around with, not anyone else.

* * *

Fuji opened the suite door, and slowly walked inside. Surprisingly, Sarah was still sitting on the sofa, very much awake, and looking at him straight in the eye. 

Fuji felt fatigue sweep over him. He knew that Sarah could tell what happened just now at the gallery at just one precise look at his face and he didn't want to talk about it, so he lamely tried to hide his actions and his face by rushing straight into his room with an excuse of I'm very, very tired.

When he was under the covers, Sarah opened the door once again.

"Tell me about it tomorrow, okay?"

In the dark, Fuji could almost imagine her sly smile.

* * *

They said they would meet up the following night, and here they were, in a small cafe at the side of the crowded streets of Causeway Bay. They had somehow managed to find a seat next to the glass windows that blocked out the noise on the streets. It has always been Hong Kong's custom for streets to be still saturated with people and excess noise towards the middle of the night, and as Tezuka and Fuji settled down in their sofa chairs, they felt strangely unaccustomed and out of place. 

People kept glancing at Tezuka. Some, who were brave enough, even went up to ask for his autograph, which he, in typical Tezuka-manner, politely gave them what they wanted. Finally when the people cleared away did they have some peace.

"A salmon salad sandwich, please," Tezuka said as they placed their order.

"A glass of Baileys Irish Cream special, please," said Fuji. The waiter scurried away.

Tezuka raised one eyebrow. "What's the difference between special and normal?"

"The special one can be refilled as many times as you like," the tensai said.

"You're not eating anything?"

"I don't really have the appetite," replied Fuji, a soft, somewhat wistful smile still tugging at his lips. "So, Tezuka, how have you been these years?"

"I've been fine."

"Oh, that's very helpful."

Tezuka didn't know what to say.

"Did you meet up with any of our old teammates?" asked Fuji, who was being quite persistent.

"Not really. I only saw Echizen in Wimbledon, and Inui was friends with my manager when I was in the U.S. Open. I also heard that Eiji and Oishi played doubles for Japan in the Olympics."

"Mm, they did," said Fuji, who seemed to be immersed in the memories of his past. "How is our darling ochibi? It's been so long since I've seen him."

"He's fine," said Tezuka shortly.

"Tezuka, you should seriously learn how to elaborate on your sentences instead of making them so short and vague."

Their orders arrived, and they fell silent. The silence, though, would occur to them as a little awkward. Maybe it was because it has been years and years since they'd seen each other's familiar faces and heard each other's familiar voices.

Tezuka looked at his sandwich, his appetite suddenly decreasing. It wasn't that it didn't look appetizing; the sandwich was perfect, it was beautiful, it was placed in the middle of an extravagant plate with cherry tomatoes and salad leaves as a decoration.

"Your sandwich is perfect, Tezuka." _Just like you are. I wonder if perfect people eat perfect food._

Fuji absentmindedly whirled his glass in a small circle, causing the creamy-looking alcoholic liquid swirl inside. He gently lifted the glass to his lips and took a long sip, followed by a soft sigh.

It suddenly occurred to Tezuka that Fuji smelled exactly like Baileys Irish Cream. It smelled refreshing and elegant at the same time, suiting Fuji perfectly. He looked up at his closed eyes and the tensai smiled at him. _A beautiful smile_, he thought.

"What's wrong, Tezuka? You seem troubled," Fuji asked.

"Nothing," he replied, hoping not to sound too defensive.

"You haven't answered my first question yet. How have you been?"

"I've been fine. You know what I have done in the past years. The whole world knows."

"I mean the things that reporters don't know. Say, have you gotten yourself a lover now?" asked Fuji, his voice quiet, softer than usual, yet mesmerizing.

Tezuka thought he heard his heart skip a beat.

"I don't."

"Why not?"

"I don't know…" he said, trying to look away from Fuji's piercing gaze.

Fuji drained what was remaining of his alcoholic drink and asked for the waiter to refill it, which he did promptly.

"Fuji, are you that fond of alcohol?"

"Only Baileys Irish Cream, and maybe Shandy," he said, an amused look on his face. "They taste good, don't you think so? You want to try it?" Fuji held his glass towards Tezuka, which he accepted and took a small sip. He couldn't deny that it tasted nice. What he didn't know, was that it was because Fuji smelled like Irish Cream.

A woman whispered from behind: "That hot guy and Tezuka Kunimitsu are indirectly kissing!"

Tezuka's eyebrows twitched. Fuji broadened his smile.

"I wonder if that's what happens whenever you're around with me."

"Hn."

Silence stretched over them again.

"Saa, Tezuka, you really adore my photos, don't you?" Fuji asked.

"Yes, I do."

Fuji reached down under the table and pulled a neat and beautifully designed paper bag and handed it to Tezuka.

"If so, I'll give this to you. It's my newest collection and the prettiest yet."

"Thank you very much, Fuji."

"Saa, no need to be so polite."

Tezuka opened the photo collection in the form of a book. The pictures were all of water; one was of a vast sea and stormy clouds above it; one was a small, clear droplet of water that sent ripples down the liquid's surface. It was beautiful beyond measure. Brought to perfection by a certain tensai, who was truly talented in all aspects of life. Casually Tezuka flipped over page after page, his eyes shining in the wonder of a child's, carefully examining the forms of nature that seemed so realistic.

"Fuji, they're wonderful."

"Thank you," he replied most humbly.

Just then, Fuji's cell phone rang. Smiling, he picked it up, giving a short apology.

"Hello?"

"Syuusuke?" Sarah asked in the other line. Tezuka heard it.

"I'm in Causeway Bay, in a cafe with Tezuka."

"Ah. Is everything alright?"

"I'm fine, Sarah, don't worry. If you don't mind, I'll be hanging up now. See you later in the hotel room."

"Okay. Bye."

Fuji flipped his phone shut.

"Who was that?" Tezuka asked.

"Oh, it's just Sarah, a working partner of mine."

"Is she your girlfriend?" Tezuka asked again, an irritated feeling welling up in the inside. He didn't know why.

"No. Why?" asked Fuji, still smiling.

"She calls you Syuusuke."

"Oh, it's just because she prefers to cal me that."

Fuji didn't know why Tezuka would react like that at a phone call from Sarah. Somehow, he _knew_ something was wrong. By now, he was on his sixth glass of Baileys Irish Cream, and he was beginning to feel a little dizzy.

"I'm sorry, Tezuka, but I think I drank too much Baileys Irish Cream, and now I'm beginning to feel a little uncomfortable. Also, it's getting rather late, so I'll be going now." He looked at Tezuka apologetically.

"See you then, Fuji. Keep in contact."

When they walked out of the cafe, Fuji flagged a Taxi and waved.

Tezuka, now standing alone and waiting for another Taxi, felt a sour lump at his throat. Why? He didn't know. He didn't know why seeing Fuji the first time since five years would make him feel so empty, so incomplete. It simply stirred up an unrecognizable feeling from deep inside him, something that had stayed dormant in him since his life began.

He began to wonder, _What is love?_

* * *

_I entrust our future togetherness to Fate. -_by vierblith. 

**much thanks to all reviewers, and to those who gave me advice.**


	4. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

**love** /lʌv[luhv noun, verb; loved, lov·ing.

–noun

_Lit._ A profoundly tender, passionate affection for another person.

* * *

Relax; take it easy – there is nothing that we could do. There are only us to blame.

* * *

_There is no way that he'd accept me. Hell, I don't even know if he'd accept the fact that I like another male. He is so traditional, so perfect – he does not have flaws in anything, not in his character, not in his lifestyle, not in his physical features. Nothing. _

It was one or two hours to dawn, and Fuji was standing on the balcony of the hotel, glassy eyes staring at the sky and its shimmering, elegant light. The skyline was still as beautiful and as peaceful as ever.

His mind was wandering; he was no longer in Hong Kong, but in the depths of his deepest and most cherished memories. He was still a little hung-over from all the alcohol from last night, but he wasn't in the mood to sleep. His mind was raging with the memories of Tezuka.

"_Ne, Tezuka…what am I to you? _"

"_You are my very good friend," he answered, nothing unusual in his voice._

"_Ah. I see."_

Fuji smiled bitterly to himself. He knew this was all that they'd ever be. He knew that this love was foolish, and he was slowly dying, bit by bit because of his foolishness, of his naïveté, of his fantasies that didn't know boundaries. When he realized, it was too late – now he could never deny the fact that he loved Tezuka more than he loved himself. His heart ached deeply, for he knew that he was chasing his own tail.

He reached out to brush a lock of hair out of his eyes, when he felt a little wetness on his cheeks.

_Oh right, so I've been crying._

Fuji didn't give a damn, but the more he thought about it, the more the small, light-reflecting droplets fell and splashed on his folded arms. Sometimes he wished he could be an angel, so he could love anyone and everyone without suffering, so he could have wings that guided and cared and sheltered others. He wished he were an angel, with white feathery wings growing from his shoulder blades.

From behind, Sarah saw everything, saw his dismay; she saw his tears of sheer hurt. And she wondered if Fuji had ever been happy, once in his life.

* * *

Tezuka looked at the weird white bird sitting on his window sill. It was pure white, and his eyes were blue and small. It stood there preening his feathers. The only word to describe it was beautiful. A slightest upward curve formed on Tezuka's lips, as he marveled how the little creature reminded him of Fuji. 

He didn't know what was wrong with himself. These days, he seemed to be able to relate anything to Fuji.

The bird looked at Tezuka.

Tezuka felt that there was a pair of Fuji's eyes drilling holes through him. He sighed and closed his eyes, slumping on his chair. He couldn't think properly, for some reason that he didn't know. That, of course, is because he is just too completely oblivious.

The phone rang.

"Hello, Tezuka Kunimitsu speaking."

"Good morning, Tezuka-san. This is Sarah Hartnett. I am Syuusuke's friend, and I have some rather important matters to discuss with you. Would you be free at lunch today so we could perhaps go to someplace undisturbed?"

"What's wrong with Fuji?" asked Tezuka, his eyebrows furrowing into a frown.

"You'll know when you come."

"How did you get my number?"

"Oh, I got your number from Inui-san."

_That Inui. Still as informed as ever._

"Okay then. Would one in the afternoon be okay?"

"Sure. I'll see you later then."

* * *

Tezuka settled down into the cafe's chair, facing a smiling woman with long, black hair and hazel eyes. 

_Her smile is exactly like Fuji's._

"Miss Hartnett, what did you want to talk to me about Fuji?"

"Ah. Tezuka-san…do you realize how Syuusuke thinks of you?"

"He thinks I'm his good friend."

Sarah sighed. As expected, he was so oblivious it was funny.

"Have you once looked at him through your heart?" she asked.

"What?"

"Have you ever looked at him carefully? Have you ever analyzed his actions, his movements? Have you ever realized what he has done for you?"

Now Tezuka was very, very confused. He stayed in a bewildered silence as Sarah nearly wanted to punch the table due to his lack of realization-skills.

She sighed again, this time more deeply.

"It's obvious, Tezuka-san. Syuusuke loves you, he loves you so much that he would sacrifice himself for you. And everyday the pain in his heart grows a little, everyday his heart cracks a little because he thinks that you will be nothing more than a good friend. He suffers beneath the mask, and if this continues, he will fall apart one day. So, what will you do when he falls apart? At that time, it might be too late to even to save him."

_Fuji loves me?_

"I've been around him so much, I see his hurt everyday. It too pains me when I see his tears flowing down his cheeks. He always zones out and stares into space thinking about you. I know him so well it becomes really obvious that he can't live without you. Do you understand, Tezuka-san?"

By now, Tezuka was speechless. How could he be so oblivious to something like that? He couldn't believe that all this time, Fuji was hiding _this_ from him. Fuji was hiding his love towards him.

He suddenly felt a little dizzy.

"Syuusuke thinks that you're perfect. And since you're so perfect, he thought that you would never accept him. He's torn. And yet he's still smiling. This is all for you, Tezuka-san. I noticed that when he's around you or when we're talking about you, his smile wavers. His mask is waning. Already he's beginning to lose himself."

Tezuka was still dumbfounded as a rock. He just couldn't believe that Fuji, his best friend that he hadn't seen for so long, had loved him all along the years of their separation.

Sarah continued, her eyes shining with concern. "I know you understand, Tezuka-san. But for now, don't suddenly approach him and say things related to this. He might crack even more. Instead, slowly make up for your lost years. Understand him more, make him feel your presence. Only then, may you tell him."

Silence.

"I'll leave you to think about it," she said, getting out of her chair. "Make a wise decision."

After a while of sitting alone in the cafe, Tezuka realized, he _finally _realized that he could not, could _never_ live without Fuji.

* * *

They were at the peak, looking at the Hong Kong coastline yet again, only this time in a much clearer and much more enjoyable angle. The colourful neon lights shone through the whole patch of land, contrasting to the dark blue, velvety sky. 

Leaning forward on the rail, Fuji asked, "Tezuka, do you believe that we become angels once we die?"

"I don't know."

"They say that our wings grow from our shoulder blades."

"You asked me the same question when we were back in Junior High."

"Oh? You remember."

"Fuji, it's true that I have not been in contact with any of our teammates for a few years, but that doesn't mean that I don't forget."'

"I wonder how you'll look like when you become an angel."

Tezuka said nothing, but looked far away at the tall buildings and the harbour, eyes glazed.

Fuji snapped a few shots with his camera.

"You know, Tezuka, there are things that look beautiful in reality, but don't look appealing in photos. The Hong Kong Skyline is one of the examples. It doesn't look good unless it's around you and you're standing in the middle of it."

"Ahh."

"Tezuka, you didn't change one bit," said Fuji, chuckling lightly. "You even seem more reluctant to talk."

_That's because I don't know what to say to you to keep you from falling apart now._

"And you've still got your smiling mask on."

Fuji's eyes flickered open for a fraction of a second. This made Tezuka feel guilty of what he just said.

"Anyway, you _still_ haven't answered my question yet. Was there any interesting things that happened when I didn't see you?"

"Not much. I also met Yukimura at Roland Garros, and Atobe in the Australian Open. Yukimura told me that he got together with Sanada."

"Oh? I hope he leads a good life then. He's one lucky person, who's able to find true love."

Fuji's insides squirmed when he said the last word. Tezuka didn't notice it.

"Ne, Tezuka…what do you think is true love?"

"Someone that you really love," he answered shortly.

"How do you think your true love will be like?"

"Some things are unpredictable."

"You mean that your true love would be unpredictable?"

Tezuka didn't say anything. In a sense, Fuji was unpredictable. He still remembered how Inui's data on Fuji would always be flawed. Fuji's ability was to conceal what he didn't want to show, and instead let himself suffer all the pain.

"The stars are blinking at us," said Fuji in an almost childish way. He was gazing at the stars, his head tilted upwards, and revealing his azure irises a little. "Look, there's Cygnus and Aquila. They're the swan and the eagle, you know? The swan is beautiful and elegant, while the eagle is charming and magnificent. Yet they are positioned next to each other."

_Swans and eagles, huh?_

* * *

"This world is so amazing, you know, Sarah?" Fuji told her once he plopped down onto the couch. 

"Yeah, it's so amazing that someone capable of hiding everything beneath a mask exists."

"Oh, thank you very much."

"Syuusuke, you should consider showing more of your feelings more. If you just conceal it to yourself, you'll end up being self-destructive."

"Well, it's better to be self-destructive than to destroy other people."

"You seriously need counseling…"

"No counselor can change my character, Sarah. I'm Fuji Syuusuke, and if I change, I won't be the same person. I'd be entirely different."

"But at least you could try to show a little more of your emotions instead of your sweet smiling face," she said.

"I know that you want to talk to me about Tezuka. I've known you since university, it's easy for me to tell. The problem is, I don't want to talk about it," Fuji sighed.

"I won't force you, but escaping from reality isn't an option to deal with a problem."

"Yeah, I know. Whatever. Good night." With that he rushed into his room to avoid further conversations.

That night, he dreamt. He was a swan, a beautiful, pure-white swan that freely roamed the skies - an elegant creature that everyone admired. His companion was a golden eagle, with sharp talons and golden, hazel eyes. He radiated with magnificence and charm that no one could forget.

Strangely enough, he felt pain inside his heart, despite his alluring appearance. When he looked beside him, the golden eagle was slowly flying away, drifting away from him forever.

When he woke, he realized that he and Tezuka somehow resembled Cygnus and Aquila – only that he was a swan that would never get to stand beside the eagle.


	5. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four **

_Enfolding your love in my heart  
By the dawn I'll be gone  
The road keeps us apart  
For some time I'll be gone._

_Days go by like the wind  
And this life is too short  
It makes no sense to give in  
To release you from my thoughts._

* * *

Sarah woke up early to find a letter lying on the floor just behind the door. Obviously someone had slipped it in.

_Fuji Syuusuke_

_Room 1211, Bella Suite, 6__th__ floor,_

_Peninsula Hotel, Kowloon,_

_Hong Kong._

Fuji had never cared about his letters, which he got very frequently. Usually, he let Sarah read them before he reads them, just like a human censor. So Sarah slowly opened the envelope. It was weird, because no one else except the boss knew that they were staying in the Peninsula Hotel. Perhaps it was an emergency from the boss?

Sarah's eyes widened as her eyes scanned through the piece of white paper, neat with typed-up words. A signature was neatly printed at the end of the letter.

They were simple, and only conveyed a clear message.

Slowly, infuriately, she tore the letter into shreds, then scattered it into the bin. After that, she swiftly grabbed her handbag and left the suite.

"Hello, Inui-san," she said to her cell phone, as she walked hurriedly across the hotel lobby towards the main entrance. "This is Sarah Hartnett."

"Good morning, Miss Hartnett. What has happened to Fuji?"

"Listen, I need you to do me a favour."

* * *

Fuji rose from his bed, his hair messed up like a bird's nest. He'd woken up a little later than expected. Slowly, groggily, he walked down the hallway, only to end up tripping over the bin, spilling its contents.

"Crap." He stooped down to clean the mess up, when a jagged piece of paper caught his eye.

_To Fuji Syuusuke,_ it said. Beside it lay an opened envelope, similarly addressed to him. He knew instantly that Sarah had read his letters. But why she threw them away, he did not know.

He reached down and gently picked up all the torn pieces of paper and put them on the table, before slowly putting them back together like a huge jigsaw puzzle.

The pieces were small and hard to fit in, but being a genius, it was nothing for him.

_To Fuji Syuusuke:_

_I do not like faggots like you. I have hired private detectives and researchers and we now have adequate and accurate information about you and Tezuka Kunimitsu. If you get into a relationship, I will personally see to it that his reputation will be downgraded to the point that he is no longer liable to a future occupation as a tennis player. Be grateful because I'm warning you towards a future of hopelessness. As a courtesy I will even let you know my name._

_Shindou Naoko_

Fuji's knuckles were white with the strength from gripping the paper taped-up too hard.

He laughed, but he didn't smile.

_Wasn't this love unrequited in the first place? What a waste of time and money. _

He didn't know why, but he felt tears stream down his cheeks. He knew that he weren't meant to be with Tezuka after all the things he'd done, and all the times he suffered. Still, he couldn't help but love him even more dearly, for he knew that it would never be returned. Slowly, he shut his eyes tight and tried his best to pass into slumber, for it took all pain away. Sleep hid him in another universe that had no pain and no sadness.

When he woke up again, he was tired and fatigued. He took another look at the taped up letter, the pain that was slowly ebbing away coming back again.

_Shindou Naoko._

He picked up the phone and quickly dialed some numbers.

"Inui. It's been a long time."

"Hello, Fuji. It _has_ been a long time since we've had any means of contact," he said, with his usual monotonous voice. Only this time he felt a little dread, because what he predicted had come true. "What brings you to call me?"

"Oh, nothing much, Inui. I just wanted to ask something."

Inui felt a pang of uneasiness.

"Go ahead."

"Who is Shindou Naoko?" There. He had said it.

Inui took a deep breath silently, and hopefully Fuji didn't hear it over the phone. "I don't know," he answered, trying to sound as truthful as he could be.

There was a pause of silence.

"Don't screw with me, Inui," Fuji said, the same gentleness in his voice, so gentle now that it sounded poisonous. It was miraculous that he could sound like that in this situation.

"I'm not screwing with you," answered Inui calmly.

"I can tell by your voice. It's wavering a little," Fuji said, trying not to sound angry. "What has Sarah said to you?"

"Who's Sarah?"

"I don't want to tell you another time, Inui. I'm not in the mood to argue with you. Please, just tell me who Shindou Naoko is. I don't care if you know Sarah or not."

"I don't know," repeated Inui firmly.

"Just tell me. I _know_ Sarah called you. I can hear it in your voice. I read the letter, I found it in the bin, torn to pieces."

Inui sighed in defeat.

"Look, just don't tell Sarah Hartnett that I – "

"Okay. I get it."

Again, Inui took a deep breath. Fuji had the right to know who she was. He had the right to know who was interrupting his and Tezuka's love. Sarah Hartnett would obviously kill him virtually over the phone, but he would just have to deal with it.

"Shindou Naoko, currently lives in Okinawa. She is an unsuccessful professional tennis player that has once played in the Australian Open but lost in the preliminaries. She's rich beyond measure. According to data, she has requested to be Tezuka's mixed doubles partner once, but he declined the offer. She is very attracted to Tezuka."

Fuji stayed silent, slowly digesting the words. He could hear typing sounds coming from the other line.

"And…she seems to be very distantly related to Atobe Keigo."

Fuji sighed in his chair, slumping down.

"Thanks a lot, Inui. Call me if Sarah threatens you or anything."

"Ah. Thank you."

"I'll see you then."

"Bye." Inui sighed and closed his eyes. He hadn't felt that stressed out in a long time.

Fuji slid his eyelids shut, feeling tears prick his eyes again. There was nothing that he could do. If the whole world was against him, he couldn't help it. He couldn't help but love Tezuka even more, love him even more dearly than himself. He couldn't help but to continue this unrequited relationship. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't break it. Cutting the rope that tied him and Tezuka together was impossible.

Fuji splashed some water on his face, took a long swig of coffee, put the letter in his coat pocket and left the hotel suite.

* * *

Sarah punched in some numbers on the phone after dialing Fuji's mobile for the millionth time.

"Inui, what have you freaking said to Syuusuke?"

"I simply answered his question."

"What was the question?"

"He asked me who Shindou Naoko was."

"I thought you said you wouldn't tell him!"

"He has the right to know," Inui said shortly.

Sarah practically wanted to strangle him. Instead she tried her best to calm down.

"He's missing right now."

"What?"

"I said, he's missing right now! What am I supposed to do?"

"I have no idea where he went if that's what you're about to ask. I may be a data analyst, but I'm not clairvoyant."

"Thanks for the big help," Sarah spat, and slammed down the phone, only to pick it back up after a moment.

"Tezuka-san, this is Sarah Hartnett. Did Syuusuke come and find you?"

"No. Why?"

"Nothing."

She slammed the phone back down and yelled a stream of curses in frustration, to no one in particular but to the whole world for making Fuji suffer all this time.

* * *

Fuji absentmindedly walked around the streets, blue eyes slightly revealed, lips pressed into a small, almost wistful curve. He took small, delicate steps, almost like he had all the time in the world to walk. Almost like he was going to walk on for the rest of his life, with nowhere he belonged. Nowhere and no one. Tears were useless now; tears did not help, it would only attract sympathy, and the last thing he needed now was that. He didn't want to feel like a helpless child sitting and crying behind the rubbish dump, disowned and unwanted. He would walk alone, forever, and live his life the way he wanted to. Slowly, he would untie the difficult knots that he had made with Tezuka, and then finally release the grip of the rope, letting it fall into the vast, dull nothingness.

The sky was blue mingled with red, creating a beautiful shade of purple. He wished he had his camera with him, but he left it in the hotel suite. The orange slowly melted into a crimson shade, then into purple and then into the darkest shade of blue. Slowly, stars appeared, dotting the sky like a piece of artwork.

Fuji spotted Cygnus, the eleven-starred constellation shining in the sky, but only dimly. Aquila was nowhere to be seen.

He laughed, but he didn't smile.

Tears began pricking his eyelids again. He shut his eyelids tight, willing himself to stop crying. He plastered another smile on his face, just to look normal. He stuffed his hands in his pocket and walked into a quiet bar.

It was the same as the one he and Tezuka went for dinner before. He tried his best to stop the flow of his memories but it was impossible.

"Baileys Irish Cream special please," he said, without taking a look at the menu. The waiter nodded and went away.

When his order arrived he was already half-asleep, swimming in his own memories. Maybe it was fatigue that seeped through his body due to the events that occurred lately. Glass after glass of Baileys he drained, right until the last drop. Visions swam in his mind, visions of his life. Dimly he felt his brown locks of hair fall upon his face and his mind screaming at him. He felt hysterical laughter well up inside of him, and his eyes felt like burning. He wanted to scream at the whole world for being so cruel to him. Slowly and slowly he melted into the darkness of the world of his own.

Tezuka was walking in the streets of Causeway Bay, when he spotted a familiar figure leaning against the wall for support. He seemed to be dwelling in the thin line between consciousness and unconsciousness, and his eyes, seldom open, seemed to reflect sadness upon them.

He walked up.

"Fuji," he said, shaking the man.

He didn't budge.

"_Fuji._" He said a little louder this time. Still Fuji didn't move, and instead he muttered something along the lines of "go away".

"Fuji, I need to bring you somewhere safe."

Fuji laughed, but he didn't smile.

"I want to stay here, Tezuka," he said, his azure eyes open but hollow. He doubled over and nearly threw up all the alcohol he just drank.

Fuji was barely conscious. His arms and legs wouldn't move, and he could barely support himself. Tezuka didn't wait for the tensai to respond and hauled him into a taxi, telling the driver to drive to his hotel room.

When Tezuka pushed the door of his suite open, he quickly laid Fuji down on the couch. He poured glasses of water, offering them to the drunken man. Fuji was still half-conscious, muttering inaudible things. After a while, he finally fell into deep slumber, occasionally stirring in his sleep.

Tezuka looked at him. He looked so utterly torn, so thin and pale. He knew Fuji was falling apart, then and there. His beautiful, peaceful and perfect mask was cracking, much like the surface of a once-flawless porcelain vase. Tezuka remembered what Sarah Hartnett had said.

"_He's torn. And yet he's still smiling. This is all for you, Tezuka-san. I noticed that when he's around you or when we're talking about you, his smile wavers. His mask is waning. Already he's beginning to lose himself."_

Suddenly Fuji stirred in his sleep, turning in the couch and nearly knocking over the glass of water.

"Tezuka…Kunimitsu…" he slurred. "Promise me…that you'd think of me, so I can at least…not feel so alone…"

He flipped to the other side again, returning to his slumber.

Tezuka wanted to cry. The tensai was so broken, so broken that he was dreaming. Slowly he got up, sat beside the couch, and hugged Fuji close to himself. Fuji slumped on him, unaware, as Tezuka's tears began rolling down his cheeks. They splattered on his shoulder blades.

_Our wings once grew from our shoulder blades._

For a moment, Tezuka swore he saw ghostly wings rising from the tensai's back, as the clear droplets fell from his eyes one by one.

* * *

_Fate Lies ahead  
Like the Sun will Rise  
The Light has been gone  
Far to long from your eyes_

_But you never changed  
__You always__ played your part  
And you have erased  
All the fear from your heart_

_And tried to forget_

_The light in your eyes is fading out  
Nights falling deeper in the heart  
Hiding the truth and crashing down  
__Just like the__ dancer in the dark_

_You've seen it all  
You don't mind going blind  
You've seen it all  
All the wonders of Life_

_Run to __where you belong _

_Don't conceal your scars  
Run to __where you belong_

_And __let it __ feel your love_

_Before it's too late_

_The light in your eyes keeps fading out  
Nights falling deeper in the heart  
Hiding the truth and crashing down  
__Just like the__ dancer in the dark_


	6. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

_Took a ride _

_to the end of the lane where no one ever goes_

_Ended up _

_on a broken train with nobody I know_

_But the pain_

_and the longing's the same when you're dying_

_Now I'm lost_

_And I'm screaming for help alone_

* * *

Fuji stirred. Slowly he began to lift his eyelids that were heavy as lead, and he caught a small glimpse of his surroundings. Vaguely he recalled drinking himself into a stupor, drunken in his memories. As his senses began to awaken, he felt a sharp pain like a metal spike driven to the side of his head, a wicked job done by alcohol. Suddenly he was aware that there was a familiar warmth of someone in the room, and when he finally felt hands wrapped around him, his eyes widened as the image of Tezuka registered in his brain.

Quickly he pushed him off, in attempt to be free of the embrace that he'd longed for as long as he could remember, but out of touch – he couldn't ruin Tezuka's career, he couldn't…

Tezuka woke up to the rough pushes, a faint blush adorning his cheeks.

"Fuji…I – I'm sorry."

Too busy to notice, Fuji was swiftly packing away his things, looking frantic. "No, it's okay," he muttered. "If you don't mind, I have to go now. Sorry."

And he rushed to open the door, slammed it shut and walked away, his footsteps echoing in the narrow corridor outside.

Tezuka stood there, in the clothes that he had worn last night, stunned. It was a moment before he realized that he could not stand the fact that Fuji was slowly rotting away, because of his love that he thought unrequited. He wanted to punish himself for being so oblivious about it. He knew all these things, because he finally understood that love is not merely a feeling; it heals, kills – it's not something that you can choose. After so long, he at last knew that his heart truly belonged to Fuji.

_Forever and ever._

With that he bolted out of the doorway.

* * *

Fuji leaned on the wall beside the lift for support, his head threatening to blast into a million pieces.

"Shit," he cursed, and banged a fist on the wall, so hard it stung in response. He wanted to scream. Was Tezuka trying to make things worse? And why, of all times, did he _hug_ him? Was fate toying with him, making him trapped, helpless and lonely in a game of love? Rubbing the cruel reality in?

Footsteps were heard from the long, narrow corridor, a deep voice shouting his name.

_Tezuka._

He couldn't take his time to wait for the lift, instead, his shoes clattered down the fire escape stairway. He ran, he ran as fast as his legs would carry him. They were like jelly, so weak and knobby, like they were going to give him away in a brief moment. Suddenly they gave way and he had to grip the railing for support, wincing in the pain throbbing in his head. He was hung-over, badly.

The door opened, and Tezuka rushed in. Eyes widening, he stood up, ignoring the complaints that his fragile limbs were constantly giving. He forced them to move, all he wanted was to get away from Tezuka, far away as possible…

"Fuji."

Tezuka had cornered him.

Their eyes met, a clash of glares. Fuji's head was spinning in its own wild orbit, and his concentration was slowly fading away. In agony he gripped his head with one hand.

"Go…away. Please. I beg you."

Tezuka didn't move from his place, standing rooted to the ground. Wildly, Fuji tried to push him, his arms flailing in all directions like a helpless child suffering the wraths of a big, burly thief. Tezuka put his arms around him, nearly crushing him.

"No, Fuji. I won't leave you."

His grip tightened, and Fuji couldn't help but succumb to his embrace, knowing it was the only thing he could do.

"Fuji. I…love you."

Fuji felt tears roll down his cheeks, as he willed them to stop flowing. His head was in a frenzy. He was seeing stars, the dull greyness of the fire escape route spinning around like a UFO. Softly he wept into Tezuka's warm shoulder, leaning on him, limp.

"Tezuka…please…don't."

Tezuka only held him tighter.

"No, please…for my sake. Go…never come back…"

The tears leaked out from the corners of his closed eyes, in pain, in despair, in agony, in hurt. In every unpleasant feeling that existed in the world, and Tezuka could feel his suffering.

Tezuka dropped his arms to his side, looking hesitant.

"Why?"

Fuji slipped away from his arms quickly, dashing down the stairs like his life depended on it.

"FUJI!"

And in return, the only sounds heard was the soft and distant echoes of Fuji's footsteps and his own desperate cries, calling to only one person who'd covered his ears with his hands.

* * *

Using the thin room card, Tezuka slowly unlocked his door and stepped into the empty room. Morning light was shining through the curtains, casting speckles of light onto the soft, carpeted floor.

"It's no use now," Tezuka thought bitterly. He fixed himself some black coffee, the pool of black darkness swirling in the fragile porcelain cup. It smelt good, but tasted bitter to no end ; he didn't know what he could do now.

He closed his eyes and opened them again, only to find himself staring at an unfamiliar coat lying on the side of the couch.

"It must be Fuji's," he thought, standing from his chair to pick the coat up. It held Fuji's familiar scent; it was soft, it was everything that had to do with Fuji, it was everything that a person could want for a coat. It was perfect, just like the owner.

Tezuka hugged the soft coat close to his body and his face, inhaling the dizzying scent of Fuji Syuusuke. When he finally let go, it was a matter of ten minutes; he was lost in his own world of fantasies. However, when he stood up once again to put the coat back in place, a note fell onto his lap, gently floating until it stopped at the fabric of his pants.

It was torn and then taped up and folded neatly. Gently he put down the coat, and reached forward to unfold the letter.

_To Fuji Syuusuke…_

His eyes widened in hatred, shock, bitterness, and everything that had to do with murder. Right then, at that moment, he had never felt another desire to eliminate another human, let alone someone called Shindou Naoko. He cursed and swore that he would give her what she deserved.

Picking the coat back up, he went out of his room and headed towards the Peninsula Hotel.

* * *

Fuji was lying on the bed, his hair flying in all directions, on top of the wrinkled and messy sheets that no one had bothered to tidy. Eyes that were a brilliant blue stared into the plain white ceiling, glazed and shocked. His face was completely blank, and his lips without a curve; his arms and legs spread wide, still in the clothing he was last night.

How he yearned for it every single day, every minute, every passing second. From a distant, he heard the clock giving a faint _tick, tock_ sound that reminded him of just how short life was. The scene of what happened in the stairway kept replaying in his brain, repeating when he didn't want it to. He hated being alone. He hated to languish in the nothingness inside of him. He hated belonging to nowhere and no one.

Then it occurred to him with horrible clarity that this might be how he was going to feel for the rest of his meaningless life.

He cursed under his breath.

He had been aching for just a warm, simple hug from Tezuka. He longed to feel the tranquilizing warmth radiating from his body. And when he got it, he wanted to stop believing that it was the last hug from him that he was ever going to get.

His head throbbed, and he realized that he wasn't free from the hangover yet. He needed to sleep, to escape from pain and the cruelty of the revolving world.

Shutting his eyes tight together, he slowly drifted into an undisturbed slumber, still in the same set of sweat-drenched clothes, on the same bed with the wrinkled silken sheets, on the soft mattress of the grandest hotel in Hong Kong, but nowhere near where he wanted.

After what felt like years, but only turned out to be half an hour, he was woken up by the repeating sound of the doorbell ringing.

"Sarah must have forgotten her room card," he muttered, trying to heave himself up from the relaxing bed he had lain on just moments ago.

He half-stumbled, half-dragged himself towards the door, and leaning on the wall at the side, he opened it. His eyes were still half-closed, but they sprang open at the sight of the person in the doorway.

"Te…Tezuka," he whispered, his smile wavering and threatening to disappear.

"Fuji," he greeted in his same deep voice, nothing different from the days back in junior high. Only, his face was a sterner expression, his eyes still shining with the same glow. Maybe it was his own imagination, but his eyes seemed gentler.

Tezuka reached into his trousers pocket, and pulled out a patched-up letter, his right hand holding Fuji's coat.

"Is this the reason why?" he demanded, his eyes now turning fierce, his hands shaking from the force of gripping the piece of paper too hard.

Wildly, Fuji shook his head, trying his best to muster all his strength to push Tezuka out of the doorway so he could suffer by himself instead of having someone to rub it in.

"Is it?" he asked, still standing in the open doorway.

Fuji only continued to shove him out of the suite.

"Fuji…"

He froze, as he felt Tezuka's strong arms encircling around him again, pushing him further back into the room. As he heard the door give a small _click_, he resented himself for drinking too much alcohol the night before. There he stood, limp in Tezuka's arms, unmoving. He couldn't command his hands to move, yet he couldn't help either, to melt completely into the pair of muscular arms that gave him the satisfying feeling of protection. Since when had he felt safe? He couldn't remember.

Tezuka only hugged him tighter, Fuji's head rested on his shoulders, his body leaning against him. So weak, so fragile, unlike the boy full of spirit that he used to be.

Losing up his arms, he lifted his left hand and tilted the tensai's chin up, before leaning down to capture his lips into his own. Fuji, alarmed, thrashed around wildly, his hands pushing Tezuka's shoulders in a frail attempt of escaping the bittersweet kiss. It was only a matter of a few seconds when he felt his arms loosen up, his legs buckling, before he gave in, for there was nothing that he could do.

Their mouths were sealed completely by each other. At first, Fuji didn't move, his feeble body still resting on the weight of Tezuka's hand supporting him from the back. He was so still that anyone would wonder if he were conscious or not. He pressed his lips together, trying his best to stop Tezuka's tongue from his own mouth, but in the end, he gave up wholeheartedly. And suddenly Tezuka felt the body that was weak just a second ago kissing back with the same fervor, with the same longing that he felt for such a long time. Neither of them had felt any more complete since they had been born; maybe it was written in the stars, maybe it was God's will that they were meant for each other for as long as they lived.

Fuji clutched Tezuka close to him, entirely different to the person he was before. At each touch, his self-control was shattering into little pieces, like shards of broken glass smashed on the floor. He knew fully well that once he relented, he would never be able to escape the desire to feel Tezuka close to him again., to feel his alluring lips on his own.

"I love you, Syuusuke," Tezuka murmured in the kiss.

"I love you too – " suddenly he stopped, his body going rigid, stepping backwards frantically as if he just snapped out of a daze. His eyes were glazed with shock and fear, like he just realized what he'd done. What had got into him?

_Everything that had to do with Tezuka,_ he thought.

Burying his face in his hands, Fuji didn't know what to do. "Oh my goodness, oh my goodness…what have I done…"

Tezuka, stunned as well, walked towards the latter that looked like he was grieving. He was about to hold him, to say it everything was alright, to feel his fragile body, when Fuji's voice murmured over and over again, "No, please, no…" Lifting his face from his hands, Fuji shut his eyes, as if in immense pain.

"I love you, Syuusuke," Tezuka whispered gently. "I love you and…believe it or not, I can't live without you, because my heart entirely belongs to you..."

It sounded so foreign to Fuji's ears, so unlike Tezuka; how he had wished for years and years and even a decade that Tezuka would say these gentle, loving words to him and only him. His self-control snapped, as he threw his arms around Tezuka, weeping on his shoulders, finally finding someone that he belonged to, right here in front of him.

They dissolved into a world of their own, when their lips molded into the perfect, immaculate shape that was destined to form, someday, somewhere.

* * *

_There is an answer_

_to the darkest times_

_It's clear_

_we don't understand it but the last thing on my mind_

_Is to leave you_

_I believe that we're in this together_

_Don't scream _

_There are so many roads left_

_-Mika_


	7. Chapter 6

**Chapter Six**

"_Tezuka…this can't continue."_

"_Syuusuke. Nothing can get into our way."_

"_I – I can't, Tezuka. You know why."_

"_You're more important to me than my career is."_

"_I feel so helpless."_

"_I'm right here beside you."_

* * *

"Shoot him," said a young woman with dark brown hair that covered most of her face. Two black rings donned both of her ears, with a second white one next to it. Somehow, her eyes held a dangerous gleam that reflected not only harm, but hysteria, madness, insanity, and anything you'd see in the eyes of a person who had gone crazy; her high-heeled shoes raised her a ridiculous five inches above the ground. Her black, silken dress reached only halfway to her thighs.

"I said, shoot him," she repeated, her eyes wide and gleaming more dangerous than ever. She let out a short, high-pitched laugh, which oddly sounded like a shriek, and it echoed in the dark room, bouncing back and forth from the walls.

"My Lady, when?" a deep voice asked.

"Whenever he comes out." She laughed again, insanely.

"Yes, My Lady."

"You're dismissed." Her cold voice chilled the room.

The man who had been crouching down just a second ago quickly scurried out of the room, closing the door shut behind him.

The woman sat back down on the chair, crossing her legs and looking out of the window. Forty eight floors below, people bustled about, and vehicles puffed out black smoke.

Deep inside, she wondered why she was doing this.

* * *

Tezuka smiled as he kissed Fuji's forehead softly. Fuji's eyes slowly opened, the image of Tezuka slowly registering in his brain.

"You know, Kunimitsu?" he asked, absentmindedly running his hands through the other's brown locks. "I never imagined that one day I would wake up, next to you smiling."

Tezuka smiled again and propped himself up on the bed. Fuji laid his head on his lap, and they just smiled at each other as time slowly ticked away, marveling at the beauty of each other. It was then Tezuka planted a soft kiss on Fuji's lips before he got up.

"I have to go train Nicholas this morning," he said.

"Saa, Tezuka, do you want to have lunch together?"

"Sure."

Tezuka quickly changed, picked up his tennis bag and left the room. Fuji smiled into the empty space that Tezuka occupied just a second ago.

* * *

A black limousine drove along the road, its tinted windows and shiny surface gleaming in the light of the sun. It was almost strutting majestically across the streets, inviting stares of awe. Turning into a street with nobody, it stopped.

"That's him," a man in sunglasses said.

"Oh?" The other raised his eyebrow.

"Just go ahead and do the job, then money will pour into your account."

"Right, got it," the other man said, with a maniacal grin on his face. He stepped out of the car.

Tezuka concentrated on his footsteps. He was glad there weren't crowds around, so he wouldn't get bombarded with autograph books and bits of paper. His thoughts lingered on Fuji, as a rare smile stretched across his lips.

And then he noticed the man – he noticed that there was a strange man in a suit walking towards him, wearing sunglasses. He had a small moustache and a mad grin on his face that reminded him of the crazy scientist who created Frankenstein. The man was holding a small pistol; but nonetheless, it was something that could fire bullets.

He froze.

The man had slowly raised the hand that was holding the pistol. With the weapon pointed at his head, he realized with horrible clarity that his small, brittle life was standing just outside the gates of death; it occurred to him how fragile humans were, like dust in the wind. And suddenly the area around him had a disgusting stench of fear and death.

There was a dreadful pause, and the madman spoke.

"Goodbye, Tezuka-kun."

He fired.

* * *

Atobe looked at his wine glass. Out of no reason, it had shattered, broken shards of glass flying across the room and landing with a series of clinks.

"Keigo, what did you do?"

"I don't know, but I think I just sensed danger."

"Are you claiming that you're so great, you're even clairvoyant?"

"Shut up. Ore-sama is tired. Yuushi, do you have to fire insults at me every minute?"

"I'm not insulting you. I'm just attacking your self-pride."

"I'm serious about this."

"About what? Aw, I'm so sorry; did I just step on your poor bitty little ego?"

"No, and for once will you _shut up_ and listen to me? I'm saying that, I had a feeling that someone was badly hurt."

"Oh, cool."

He paused. "You know, sometimes I just don't realize why I fell in love with you."

"Actually, neither do I. But love…comes unbidden."

Atobe shivered, feeling Oshitari's warm breath tickle his skin as he closed his pale eyelids.

* * *

Pools of blood splattered on the floor. Splotches of the crimson liquid splashed the grey tiles of the narrow sidewalk, slowly trickling away like freshly sprayed graffiti.

And he remembered a pair of soft hands pushing him away, a soft voice calling to him…

His eyes snapped open.

The appalling sight that awaited him froze his nerves and burned his mind. Before him was a small, slim figure with honey-brown hair, pale skin, and a small smile on his face. And worst of all, it was Fuji – lying there, as lifeless as a discarded doll lying in the gutter. He wanted to ask millions of questions but they all died down as he noticed a spark of life in his astonishingly blue eyes.

"Syuusuke, Syuusuke!" His voiced, cracked, shook violently.

"I am content, Kunimitsu…" came a whisper. "…as long as I die in your arms." Fuji's pale lips offered a smile; maybe it was meant to be reassuring, Tezuka didn't know.

His body rocked back and forth as he spiraled out of control in a world of darkness.

The maniacal man stood, still grinning, but now it seemed hideous, like a monster with jagged fangs. He walked forward and delivered a few kicks to Tezuka's now limp and unconcious body, before hurling him over his back and striding towards the black limousine that was now waiting at the sidewalk.

Dumping the tall man into the trunk of the car, he clambered into the leather seat.

"Good job. Tomorrow you will receive your pay, in US dollars…"

The man's grin grew even wider.

"…in heaven," the other man said, as he pulled a gun out and shot him dead. No pain, for it was through the head, in less than a second. No trace of blood, no screams, no fear – nothing.

The car pulled into a remote countryside area and threw the body into a bush, where it landed with a reasonably loud clash.

"What do you think she'd do?" asked the man who was driving.

"I don't know, probably she'd torture him." Both men were wearing black Armani suits and dark shades.

"I think we'd better go now."

"We don't want to get electrocuted."

* * *

The ambulance lights flared and police sirens wailed; a repetitive tune like the sound of a demon. Crowds gathered round as they watched a fragile figure being laid softly on the stretchers; blood matting his skin and hair; his white shirt drenched into a crimson shade.

Police surrounded the area with meters and meters of tape, bearing the words danger and do not enter. And the dried, caked blood remained on the street, with ants encircling around it, but none willing to enter its scarlet domain. It was as if something scared them and attracted them at the same time, very much like how moths were attracted to fire. If one flew into the blazing hearth, it would die.

And sooner, both Tezuka and Fuji would have realized that life was nothing more than a series of events, linked together by other people, by thoughts and by emotions. And life could be simply crushed by just a finger of God. It would never be long enough for them.

Fuji's seemingly lifeless body was brought to the hospital, into an operating ward with frantic doctors in green masks and sterile gowns. Dazzling lights shone everywhere.

"He can be saved," the doctor in charge said. "Right, we cannot hesitate, or else he will die. Get to work."

* * *

The woman smiled at the limp body lying on the floor, his clothes disheveled and lips tinged with a blue and purple hue.

"Bring him to the lab."

"Yes, my Lady."

"Strap him on the chair."

"Yes, my Lady."

"And…call me when he wakes up. Or rather, I'd be in the lab for the next forty-eight hours. "

* * *

_Time is like a dream_

_And now for the time you are mine_

_Let's hold fast to the dream_

_That tastes and sparkles like wine_

_Who knows if it's real_

_Or is it something we're both dreaming of?_

_What seems like an interlude now_

_Could be the beginning of love_

_-Interlude_


End file.
